


two more miracles to be a saint

by crashingmanicwave



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boarding School, Drabble Collection, M/M, Mutant Powers, Non-Chronological, chapters with underage content will have a warning beforehand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2019-11-07 19:35:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 41
Words: 13,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17966702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crashingmanicwave/pseuds/crashingmanicwave
Summary: He didn’t know what he’d do without Ryan, Spencer, and Jon.Be lost, probably.





	1. last man standing

**Author's Note:**

> Mutant/superpowers AU. Brendon meets Ryan, Spencer, and Jon at a boarding school intended to help people with special abilities refine their skills. They end up forming a little group of teen vigilantes.
> 
> This is a non-chronological drabble series, and each drabble is posted in the order it was written.
> 
> Originally posted to my tumblr, [here.](https://crashingmanicwave.tumblr.com/tagged/two-more-miracles-to-be-a-saint-%28ryden-mutant-au%29)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Comfort, pride, and the smell of smoke.

Campfire smoke.  
  
If he closed his eyes and breathed in deep, he could almost imagine the colors of the flames, painting the insides of his closed eyelids in watercolor oranges and reds.

Long fingers carding through his hair, touch surprisingly gentle, fingertips massaging his skull.

“You didn’t disappear at the end this time,” Ryan said, his voice low and very nearly monotone as always, though there was an undercurrent of _something else_ there.  

Brendon wasn’t Spencer, so he couldn’t tell exactly what that _something else_ was.  
  
He liked to think it was maybe pride.

Brendon felt proud of himself, in any case.

He said nothing in response, leaning his weight against Ryan who took it without complaint, keeping him held upright.

His other arm that wasn’t in Brendon’s hair wrapped around his waist.

“You’re dead on your feet,” lips murmured against his hairline, and he was pretty sure Ryan even sounded kind of surprised that time.

Brendon wanted to laugh but all that escaped him was a huff of breath.

Ryan, who was always surprising Brendon in that he was a good deal stronger than he looked, shifted their positions so Brendon was slumped against his side instead, a way for Ryan to walk them both while taking on most of Brendon’s dead weight.  
  
Which was just as well; he less walked and more _dragged,_ shuffling feet making motions barely qualifying as actual steps.

Ryan was never the wordy type, not out loud, anyway.  Brendon knew that. Brendon was the talkative one, between the two of them.

The silence stretched between them as a result, Brendon too weary to keep words straight even in his thoughts much less able to say anything aloud.

“You did well,” came Ryan’s voice, close to his ear, unexpectedly.  “We wouldn’t have made it without you.”

So he hadn’t mistaken that undercurrent of pride before.

Tired and dazed as he was, the praise still affected him, but even the spike of giddiness wasn’t strong enough to trigger his powers and make him vanish.

He was too weary for even his usually inconvenient powers to make themselves known.

A hoarse “thanks” was the most he could manage.

This time, he was sure he didn’t mishear the smile in Ryan’s voice when he replied.

“Sure.”


	2. rumor has it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The infamous Ryan Ross.

It was common knowledge that Ryan Ross roomed with Spencer Smith.

Ryan Ross was something of a schoolwide celebrity and, by association, as was Spencer Smith, since the two were rarely seen apart.

He’d come to the Academy at a young age, and he and Spencer were apparently something of a package deal.  

They’d both been here for the better part of four years.

Chances were, if you saw Ross, Smith wouldn’t be far behind.

Or so the gossip went.

There were numerous theories circulating, ranging from the two of them being siblings separated at birth to being madly in love and inseparable as a result.

And many feared Ross’  _fiery_  temperament too much to try and separate them.

Brendon didn’t care.

He never paid much attention to school rumors anyway, and this was just another school, even if it was a little different.

He didn’t care.

Really.


	3. what do you have to hide?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just why _does_ he wear those gloves, anyway?

The sleek, black leather gloves that buttoned at the cuffs.

Brendon stared at them, always tended to stare at Ryan’s hands with their artful shape and long fingers, but the gloves.

They looked expensive, classy, rather unlike something a seventeen year old runaway would own.

He knew they went up just past Ryan’s wrists, buttoned at the cuffs with he hid beneath long sleeves.

He didn’t know why Ryan wore them every single day without fail.

It had become a point of fixation as of late, pondering their purpose.

Ryan caught him at it one day, giving him a look Brendon could only describe as  _challenging._

Brendon tilted his chin up in response, meeting Ryan’s gaze as evenly as he could.

Sure, he was a little intimidated by Ryan Ross.  Who here  _wasn’t?_   He was the most powerful and talented student in the whole school.

But that didn’t mean he was about to let it  _show_.

“Why the staring, Urie?  Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Just wondering.  About the gloves.”  He nodded at them.  “Seem pretty expensive.”

Ryan’s fingers twitched, an motion that looked involuntary.

“Not your business.”

He heard Spencer sigh, somewhere to Ryan’s left.

“Ryan,” He began.

Ryan’s gaze flicked over to Spencer, and they did that thing where they had a silent conversation with their eyes.

Brendon really hated Spencer’s telepathy sometimes.

The defensive jut of Ryan’s shoulders eased, and he looked down at the table, brows drawn together in a dark line.

“It’s not your business,” he repeated, though his voice was less firm this time.

There was a beat before Brendon sighed, leaning back on the plastic bench, the creak of it punctuating the silence.

“Fine.”

And he didn’t bring it up again.


	4. breathe in deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since when did his smell become something comforting?

“Smoke.  You smell like smoke.” **  
**

“Is that a surprise?”  Ryan’s voice sounded faintly amused.  “Considering.”

“Not really a surprise.  Considering.  Just… an observation.  That’s all.”

Ryan shifted back against him, letting his head drop back onto Brendon’s shoulder.

With the displaced air from the movement came the slightly sweet smell of campfire smoke.

“Teachers in school used to think I smoked because of it,” He began, sounding disinterested.  “I never did.  Never liked cigarettes that much.”

“Well,” Brendon began, Ryan’s hair tickling his nose, “you smell better than cigarettes anyway.”

“Really?”  Ryan sounded amused.

And now Brendon felt kind of embarrassed at making a declaration so blunt.

“No, I mean you smell like burning dog shit.  Disgusting.  Get off me.”

Ryan laughed at that, quietly, but a whole body movement that rumbled against Brendon’s chest, making him smile despite himself.

Brendon made no move to push him away, though, and Ryan seemed content where he was.

So they stayed like that.


	5. indistinction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plants have feelings, too.

“So do they say anything?” **  
**

Jon sighed.

“They don’t talk, Brendon.  Well.  Not the way we talk.  It’s more like… a feeling.”

“What kind of feeling?”

Brendon was crouched beside the planter, holding a seedling in place in the earth while Jon patted soil around it.

It was hard to wrap his head around the knowledge that Jon was just allowed to have this entire greenhouse to himself, even if Jon insisted it wasn’t all that big, really.

Jon shrugged as he wiped his forehead with the back of his dirt-smudged forearm.

“Just a feeling.”

Brendon made a face at that.

Jon saw his face and laughed, grinning easily and tousling Brendon’s hair with a dirty, gloved hand.

“It’s hard to explain, B.  I dunno.  I can just feel their lives, if I reach out.  I can feel that they’re living.  You know?  Not the same way Spence can feel people’s thoughts, but.  More indistinct, I guess?”

He shrugged.

Brendon frowned.

“I don’t get it.”

Jon cracked another grin.  Brendon rather liked Jon’s upbeat attitude, even if he didn’t understand many of the things he tended to go on about.

“That’s fine.  You don’t have to get it.”


	6. handle with care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Ryan have a complicated relationship.

Brendon blinked, brick wall of the side wall rough against his back.

“What?”

Spencer sighed, giving him a hard look.  When he next spoke, his voice was from inside of Brendon’s own head.

_‘I said, be careful with Ryan.’_

Brendon jerked back hard enough that his head smacked against the brick and he cursed, rubbing the back of his head.

Spencer was still giving him that same look, eyebrows furrowed, searching.

“What?  What’s that look for?  I get it, okay?  Be careful with Ryan, right, I’ll treat him like a princess,” Brendon retorted, irritated by Spencer’s weird stoicism and suddenly using his powers on him without forewarning.

“Also, that’s really fucking invasive and I’d like it if you didn’t do that again.”

Spencer seemed to deflate a little at that.

“Sorry.  I just had to make sure.”

Brendon dropped his hand to his side, frowning.

“Make sure of what, exactly?  That I’m playing nice with Ryan?”

“No,” Spencer said, taking a half step back.  “Well. Not  _just_ that.”

“Then what else?”  Brendon snapped.

“Just…” Spencer trailed off, falling silent.

Brendon didn’t get it.

He didn’t get Spencer, didn’t get Ryan, and sure as hell didn’t get their relationship.

“Just  _what,_  Spencer?”

“Take good care of him.  Please.”

Brendon bit back his retort only because Spencer’s voice sounded much smaller than before.

“I know Ryan can be difficult,” Spencer continued, glancing back up at Brendon, “but he’s… got reasons for that.”

“Like?”

Spencer laughed softly, though it was a humorless sound.

“It’s not my place to tell.”

Brendon made a frustrated sound.

Spencer looked properly abashed, at least.

“I just had to be sure you weren’t going to hurt him.  And I trust that you won’t, at least not on purpose.  That’s all.  I like you, Brendon.  I think you’re a good guy.  Really.  But Ryan’s…” He trailed off and sighed again.

“Difficult,” Brendon offered.

“Yeah.”

“I already knew that much.”

Spencer shook his head.

“The thing is, Brendon,” He said slowly, “I really don’t think you know the half of it.”


	7. soft touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fire's still pretty even if it is capable of hurting you.

“It’ll still burn you if you touch it.” **  
**

Brendon dropped his hand back to his side with a frown.

“Really?”

Ryan sighed.

“It’s  _fire_ , Brendon.  Yeah.  It’ll burn you.”

The tiny, golden orange flame that danced in the palm of Ryan’s hand seemed so much softer than fire, somehow, a fat little ball of it that almost looked like it’d be soft in texture.

“How do you  _do_  that,” he whispered in apparent awe, watching the way it did little figure eight loops in the air suspended above Ryan’s hand.

Ryan shrugged.

“Practice.  Boredom.  I dunno.  I try lots of things.”

There was a reason Ryan was considered the most talented student in the school, and Brendon could see why.

Ryan was creative with his powers, constantly sought ways to improve them and use them uniquely.

Brendon felt not unlike his own powers by comparison, a mere shadow.

Instead of thinking on it, he cupped his hands around the tiny flame without actually touching it, letting the soft glow of it warm his palms.

Ryan’s breath caught a little in his throat, or it could have been Brendon’s imagination.

His gaze flicked up to meet Ryan’s, whose eyes cast in gold.

The warmth was like sunlight.


	8. between the folds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He steps through a crack in reality.

Whenever he vanished, the world around him shifted into one of shadow, people around him sketchy and indistinct, like smudged pencil sketches. **  
**

He passed through them, all insubstantial as smoke.

Voices reached his ears, though he could make out no words.  Just a swell of noise, surrounded by a plastic bubble like water in a balloon.

He wandered in this state, sometimes, walking without purpose.

The layout of the school never changed, even if the people around him were difficult to make out.

And this world, this strange, fleeting word of shadow where people were little more than blips on his radar, it left his normally buzzing brain quiet.

And then he’d slip back, step into himself again, the real world crashing down on him with a swell of noise and color and solidity and he stumbled.

Fingers grasped his arm to steady him, fingers accompanied by the slight smell of sweet smoke.

A low whistle from Jon.

“That was something else,” commented Spencer.

Ryan stepped in front of him, wearing a rare smile.

“Okay,” he said, “I guess you’re one of us now.”


	9. naive shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We don't _always_ use our powers for good.

“This is really immature of you.”

Ryan’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away.

Brendon refused to respond, refused to reappear, watching the smudgy outline of Ryan’s lean figure, watching him fold his arms over his chest.

“You can’t just disappear to make a point.”

Yes, he could.

He just did.

“Brendon.  I feel like an idiot.  Come on.”

Ryan walked right past him, Brendon almost tempted to grab his shoulders, catch him by surprise.

Tempting.

“Bren.  Seriously.”

Ryan sighed, a sound that indicated long-suffering.

Ryan was being dramatic.

“Brendon.”

Brendon stayed right where he was.

Funny how only in situations like this he could hold onto his vanished form, staying in the shadows with ease.

“For all I know, you walked out and you’re leaving me here to talk to myself,” Ryan commented dryly.

Brendon bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.

That wasn’t a bad idea, actually.

Ryan sighed again.

“Okay, okay.  I concede.  You can totally disappear and I can’t tell where you are when you do.  Okay?  Come on, stop this already.”

Well.

If Ryan was insisting.

He crept up behind Ryan, waiting, waiting.

“Bren-”

His hands came down on Ryan’s shoulders and Ryan whipped around just as Brendon reappeared, cackling.

“You should have seen your face, seriously -”

“That’s  _not_  funny, you dick, what made you think -”

“ _This is so immature, Brendon_ , you said while talking to the bookshelf -”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have been talking to a bookshelf if you’d decided to stop messing around for once -”

And really, it was another Thursday afternoon that was derailed thanks to Brendon.

As always.


	10. just a peek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not very subtle.

“Can you see people’s dreams?”

Spencer took a moment to answer, seeming thoughtful about it.

“Sometimes?  Sort of?  But dreams aren’t as distinct as thoughts, so it’s harder to do.  Why?”

Brendon took a bite of his sandwich and shrugged.

“Just curious.  Thought it might be kinda cool to get to see what people’s dreams look like.”

Spencer watched him eat for a moment, eyebrows raised in a way Brendon didn’t really like.

“You mean, you’d like to know what  _Ryan_  dreams about.”

Brendon sputtered, choking down the bite before it came back up.

“ _What?!_  No way, Spence, why would I -”

Spencer laughed.

“I was kidding, but okay, you just made  _that_  obvious.”

Brendon’s face felt hot, and Spencer laughed even louder.

“Shut up.”


	11. feeling raw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That boy's probably never been treated with tenderness like this before.

The burn scars were smoother than he expected, pinkish pale against the already pale skin of Ryan’s hand. **  
**

“They’re pretty old,” Ryan offered.  “I probably got them when I was ten or so.”

Somehow Ryan’s hand in his felt so much heavier than it should have, and he ran his thumb over the scars again.

“So this is why the gloves.”

An obvious statement, but Ryan just nodded.

“That’s why the gloves.  Yeah.  They’re not that bad anymore, and the gloves are kind of just an old habit.  An excuse, too, I guess.  So people don’t just stare.”

The scars were stretched out and clearly old, much too faded to be recent, but still noticeable.

“They’re just a reminder from when I didn’t have such good control,” Ryan continued, voice soft and whispery as dried flower petals.  “And I’ve come a long way since then.”

Brendon wondered what it was like, having such a volatile power from such a young age, struggling every day to control it and not let it rampage with his emotions.

Brendon’s powers were tied to his emotions too, but the difference was, he only vanished for a couple hours if he was upset enough.

Ryan…

Wasn’t like him.

Constant reminders like this, of all Ryan had to go through to get to where he was.

He pressed a kiss to Ryan’s knuckles, just over the worst of the scars.

“You’re so cheesy,” Ryan said, though his voice might have been a little choked up.

“Yeah,” Brendon said.  “I am.”


	12. those dark corners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fears are better left unnamed.

“It isn’t  _technically_  claustrophobia.” **  
**

“That’s what it means.  Fear of small spaces.”

Brendon sighed.

“Yeah, but,” he kicked at a pebble, watching it clatter on the flagstones until it was out of sight, “It’s not.  It’s not the same thing.”

He couldn’t meet Ryan’s gaze, looked instead somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles.

Ankles didn’t judge him or try to give him the dictionary definition of words he already  _knew_ , thanks a lot, English geek.

Ryan remained quiet.  Brendon still didn’t risk a glance up at his face.

“Okay, Bren,” he said, voice unexpectedly soft.  “Why don’t you explain it to me, then?”

It didn’t sound chastising when he said it like that, words feeling more like a gentle nudge.

The  _you don’t have to_  was implied.

“It’s just,” a frustrated sigh. Start and stop.

Ryan remained quiet.

“Look, just.  Once, I don’t really remember how old I was, but I was pretty little I guess?  Once, I got angry about… something, I don’t know, you know, kids get angry over dumb shit.  I was… I disappeared, for a while.”

Ryan made a sound of assent.  “Like before?”

Brendon nodded, scuffing his foot against the floor for lack of another pebble to kick.

“Like before.”

“So then..”

“I disappeared, for like, I dunno, a few hours or something.  My parents were freaking out.  No one could find me.  I was just… not really aware of anything, I didn’t know where I was.  My powers are still pretty new to me, yeah, but they were… fucking, another fucking  _planet_  back then, Ry.  Just.  I didn’t have any idea what was going on.”

He jumped a little when gloved fingers slid between his, unaware that his breathing had gotten so shallow, quick puffs like the heartrate of a hummingbird.

He cleared his throat.

“I, uh, guess I ran out of energy at some point or something and woke up in a closet, or something like that.  And I just.  Freaked out.  I don’t know.  I don’t remember a lot of it.  I remember just… the panic.  And that’s why… you know.  That’s why I freaked out earlier.”

Ryan squeezed his fingers.

“I guess you can call it a panic attack or whatever.  That’s what it was, I guess.  I still don’t want to really say it was claustrophobia, but…”  He worried his lip between his teeth.

“It’s okay,” Ryan said, “I get it.”

“Do you?”

A rustle that indicated Ryan had probably shrugged a shoulder, not the side he was holding Brendon’s hand with.

“I get it.”

Brendon nodded, swallowing, chancing a glance up at Ryan now, who was staring across the courtyard with a focused expression on his face.

And then he was looking at Brendon with that same look, an intensity not unlike the one he usually wore but muted, somehow, less razor-sharp.

“Okay,” Brendon said, taking a deep, shuddery breath.  “I believe you.”

Ryan smiled, a barely-there quicksilver thing.

“Good.”


	13. a hopeless unromantic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But he got a first kiss out of it anyway.

“This is  _such_  a cliche.” **  
**

“Say what you want, it’s still kind of romantic.”

Ryan snorted.

“We’re hiding out in the backyard in a hammock no one’s used in probably a decade.  I think you’re redefining the meaning of ‘romantic’.”

Brendon flashed a grin, all teeth, making sure Ryan saw it before he looked away and rolled his eyes.

“You know, that’s me.  All charm, all romance.”

“All dumbass.”

“Hey.”

Ryan’s expression held no edge to it, so Brendon didn’t take it personally.

Lately, he didn’t need to be Spencer to translate Ryan’s subtleties.

It was a pretty good feeling.

They lay close together, the night cool but not cold enough that either of them needed jackets, arms side by side.

He could feel the warmth of Ryan’s skin through the shirt he wore.

Brendon was sure Ryan ran a few degrees warmer than most people, just by his very nature, and the one time he’d commented on it had only earned him a shrug and a ‘maybe’.

He thought that Ryan didn’t pay himself enough attention, sometimes.

But even if that was the case, Brendon wanted to be the one to fill in for that, to pay attention to Ryan for all the times he didn’t for himself.

Which didn’t make much sense, even in the confines of his own thoughts, but at least Spencer wouldn’t be here to judge him for it.

“Hey,” he repeated, softer, more nuanced.

It got Ryan to look over at him.

“Yeah?”

“You know what else would be a romantic cliche?”

Ryan huffed, a sound that might have almost been a quiet laugh.

“What?”

“If we, like, kissed right now.”

“Really,” Ryan’s tone was dry, but even Brendon could see he was fighting a smile.  “Is that what you had in mind?”

“I dunno, maybe you should drag Spencer out here to ask -”

“Oh, stop.  Just answer the question.”

And Brendon did stop.

Ryan really wanted to know?

Then.

“Yeah,” he said, “yeah, and if it was?  What would you say to that?”

Ryan shifted, the movement making the hammock swing a little, tree branch creaking but holding steady.

Brendon mirrored him, ready for it when Ryan leaned in to press his lips to his, had been ready a while, longer than Ryan had, probably.

But he only wanted it if Ryan was ready, too.

“That’s what I’m saying,” He whispered against Brendon’s lips, breath soft and warm and Brendon just wanted to hold him close forever.

“Sounds good,” He said, and they said nothing else for the rest of the evening.


	14. watch & rewind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of _course_ he hit play again.

It was just weird, hearing his own voice played back at him from a tinny cellphone speaker. **  
**

Kind of discomfiting.

Yet Ryan was glued to it, lights from the screen playing against his eyes as he watched with a kind of hunger, an intensity he wasn’t unused to seeing in Ryan but felt strange having it directed at him.

Well.  Indirectly.  Indirectly directed?

“Your voice,” was all Ryan said before stopping, finally tearing his eyes from the phone screen to look up at Brendon.

“My voice?”

Ryan nodded, though he didn’t elaborate.

“Uh… what about my voice?”

“It’s.”

“It’s?”

Ryan gave Brendon a look, one that wasn’t quite irritated but getting there, one that said  _what I’m saying to you is obvious_  even though it really, really wasn’t.

He made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a huff.

“You’ve got something, that’s all.  Something special.”

His voice was a little softer towards the end, and Brendon felt something tense in him uncoil slightly.

“I’m, uh.  I’m still not sure what you mean, really, but.  Jon kind of did that.  I just.  I didn’t know he was even doing it.”

“If you knew, you wouldn’t have done it.”

“Uh.  Probably not, no.”

Ryan looked back down at the phone.

Brendon really, really hoped he didn’t hit play again.


	15. you being you is my favorite part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Words can't describe the way I feel, so I'll let my fingers paint a picture for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my personal favorites, and also the longest drabble thus far.

Maybe Brendon never noticed because Ryan’s hands were so often concealed by gloves, so rarely felt the naked press of his skin against his own that it was so startling now. ****

Ryan’s hands felt searing hot in contrast to his own skin, warmer than sunlight, something close to a burn, maybe, but not painful enough to be quite that.

Long fingers stroked the length of his spine in a way Brendon could only describe as  _tender_ , Ryan’s touch oh so careful, as though he were handling glass rather than a reasonably sturdy fellow teen boy.

“That almost tickles,” Brendon said, even if it didn’t, really, it was just something to break the silence that had blanketed them like fog.

“Does it?” Ryan wondered out loud, not stopping, however.

Brendon let out a breath.

But said nothing.

Ryan’s touch paused and he looked at Brendon, careful to catch his eye, it seemed, dragging Brendon’s gaze to him like iron filings to a magnet.

“Bren,” He said, voice soft as his touch, maybe even softer than that.  “Is this okay?”

And that, that, Brendon almost wanted to laugh at, because what part of this was anything but  _better_  than okay?

“Bren,” Ryan repeated, voice a little firmer now.  “It’s important to me you say something here.”

Oh.  Right.

“It’s okay, Ry.  It’s definitely okay.  Is there a better word that means, like, more than okay?  Because you’d know, you know words better than I do. I mean -”

He was cut off by a warm finger pressed to his lips, something like amusement dancing in Ryan’s eyes, the corners of his lips turned up.

“Breathe.”

Right, okay, that he could do.

Ryan pressed their foreheads together, and Brendon nearly went cross-eyed trying to watch him so gave up, letting his eyes close instead.

“Now,” Ryan said, voice still soft, close enough now that he could feel the way his breath fanned over Brendon’s lips with each word, and that was.

Yeah, that ‘better than okay’ word Brendon still wanted to find.

“I want to touch you.  That’s all.  It doesn’t need to be anything more than that.  Is that okay with you?”

“I… you want?”

“I want a lot of things, Bren.  But this seems as good a place to start as any.”

“Just that?”

It was hard to tell if he felt more disappointed or relieved.

Neither tipped the scale.

“Just that.”

“But… I mean.  Do you… not want -”

And then Ryan’s fingers were gripping his jaw and Brendon’s eyes opened, Ryan’s gaze shockingly flinty in contrast to the softness that the moment retained.

“Don’t think,” He began, words slow, that low, monotone drawl Brendon had grown to love.  “Don’t think that I don’t want all of you.  I want that enough that it’s… terrifying, honestly, Brendon.  I couldn’t tell you how much that scares the shit out of me.  But don’t… think that, not for a  _second_ , because I want to take this slow that I don’t want everything you are.”

Brendon’s thoughts had ceased, he was sure, a fuzzy, buzzing blank where activity had once been.

“For now,” Ryan said, continuing a little breathlessly, “For now.  Just this.   _For now_.”

Brendon wondered at what point Ryan had started to be able to read him so effortlessly.

Better than Brendon could read himself.

And they hadn’t even needed a telepath for it.

“Still with me?” Ryan asked, thumb swiping over the skin of his cheek, gentle and repetitive.

“Yeah,” Brendon managed, more a croak than a word.

The roles were reversed, and Ryan was the one leaving Brendon speechless.

Ryan cupped his face between both warm, warm hands.

“Good,” He answered, pressing a kiss to his lips that was softer than an exhale.

Brendon felt like he was constantly learning Ryan, with each action he took, each word he spoke, every time he _looked_  at Brendon a certain way that he hadn’t quite puzzled out yet.

And it was knowing that Ryan wanted him but without the pressure to do much beyond just this, the slow, comfortable ease with which he was warmed by Ryan, from within and out.

Long fingers splayed over his ribcage, hands still so warm, but less unbearable.

More bearable.

“Your heart’s beating so fast,” was Ryan’s low comment that made Brendon’s face prickle with heat and tell his powers not now because this would be an awful time to up and vanish.

Ryan kissed the corner of his mouth and kept a hand there, on his chest, warm and sure over the fluttering pulse of his heart which was, as Ryan said, beating very quickly.

No denying that now.

“Because of me,” he breathed out, less a question and more a statement, tone suggesting that was a thing to marvel at.

“I don’t see anyone else here,” Brendon rebutted weakly.

He felt Ryan’s smile against his cheek.

“I wouldn’t want anyone else here.”

“You really  _like_  doing this to me.”

“What  _am_  I doing to you?”

“Generally, or specifically?”

“Mm. Both?”

“It’s a one or the other question, Ross.”

Ryan laughed at that, pulling back so Brendon could see his smile now, so soft, so very  _soft_  around the edges.

It made him feel weak and dazed just seeing it.

“Just tell me what I do to you,” he said, voice low and almost sultry, if Brendon had to put a word to it.

“Well, um.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… can’t think.  When your hands are on me.”  His voice shook.

_Can’t think of anything but you._

“What else?”

“You make me feel like… something.  I don’t know, just.  Something… special.”

“That’s because you are.”

“Uh.  Wow, uh.  You’re just.  Doing that on purpose.”

“Only a little,” came Ryan’s reply, unquestionably smug.

“Ass.”

“I do mean it, still.  Even if I am trying to get a reaction out of you.  I like knowing that I affect you like this.”

Brendon swallowed, the simple action taking megatons of effort.

Ryan took his time, tilting his head so their lips brushed, and Brendon leaned into the familiarity of it, grateful for that much of an anchor.

Ryan’s hands stroked his sides, traced the shapes of his ribs, the dip of his hip bones and the soft part of his stomach, something that had the muscles jumping at the action.

He lay his palm flat over Brendon’s stomach, the skin of his hand still searing hot, somehow, despite how overheated Brendon himself already felt.

“I like this,” Ryan said, though didn’t specify just what.

Brendon was sort of grateful for that, not entirely confident that Ryan  _hadn’t yet_ mastered the ability to make him burst into flames with mere words.

And his hold on his own powers were still… shaky, at best.

“I like you,” Ryan added, “Bren.”

When Brendon didn’t say anything right away, Ryan pulled back a little to kiss his cheek.

“Still okay?”

“Yeah.  Just, um.  Just… you know.  Trying to keep a grip on my physical form.  Not fall through the floor and into nothing, like people do when they’re embarrassed.  Normal stuff.  No big.”

Ryan pulled back a little at that, a fact Brendon bemoaned immediately.

“I’m not sure I’d qualify that as okay.”

Brendon sighed.

“I’m not…  _not_ okay?  I’m just.  It’s a lot, that’s all.  And it frustrates me that I can’t keep a better grip on myself, especially when I really want to.”

Ryan’s hands gravitated to hold his upper arms, though his grip was light.

“Then we’ll stop here.”

Brendon let out a whoosh of breath.

“But -”

“If it’s putting stress on you, then that’s not what I wanted.”

“What… did you want?  From this?”

Ryan was silent for a moment, now he was the one to look away.

“Just,” He said, still not looking at Brendon.  “To feel you.  Without gloves on.  To know that you wanted me the same way I wanted you.  To… make you feel good.”

For the second time, Brendon felt like he had the power of speech torn from him.

Ryan finally looked back up at him when he didn’t answer.

Uncertain, that was how he seemed.

Instead of answering he moved in close to wrap arms tight around Ryan’s shoulders, who let out a startled huff of breath against his neck before responding in kind, wrapping him up in a hug nearly as tight.

“It’s enough for now,” Ryan said, voice so low and mumbled he probably hadn’t intended to say it out loud, an errant thought that had caught breeze and drifted like a dandelion seed.

Brendon breathed in the smoky sweet smell of him and closed his eyes tight.

“More than enough.”


	16. maybe, maybe not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doing the duty of a(n) (over)protective best friend.

“You guys have been close lately.” **  
**

Brendon raised an eyebrow.

“You’re the telepath.  Shouldn’t you know that better than me?”

Spencer sighed.

“I make it a point  _not_  to invade Ryan’s privacy if I can avoid it.”

“So you’re asking me.”

“Yeah.”

“Why the suspicious tone?”

Spencer’s eyebrows drew together.

“I’ve never seen Ryan act like this before.”

“Uh… is it a bad thing?”

Spencer made a noise.  “I don’t know, that’s the problem.”

Brendon put his pencil down, deciding that there was no way he was going to get much done if Spencer decided to grill him like this.

“So… what do you want me to say, Spence?  Yeah, Ryan and I have been close lately?  I don’t think he’s as much of an ass as I used to?  I think we might even, god forbid,  _get along?”_

Spencer leveled a look at him that was familiar, but not one Brendon had learned how to interpret just yet.

“I think you’re doing a whole lot more than just  _getting along.”_

Brendon’s mouth went dry.

“That’s all I’m going to say on that.  I’ll leave you to studying.”

And Spencer was gone, leaving Brendon with two lines scrawled on notebook paper and a  _ton_  of unanswered questions.

Was it just a telepath thing to be able to guess freakishly well or was that just a  _Spencer_ thing?


	17. arguing is like dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prom dates are really, truly Serious Business.

“I’m your prom date,” Ryan said, very seriously.  “And you’re mine.” **  
**

Brendon raked fingers through hair he probably needed to wash and pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Sorry, I’m not sure I heard you right.  I could have sworn you just said -”

“You, me, prom.  Come on, Urie, keep up.”

“Are you asking me out?”

“In what universe does going to prom qualify as a date?”

“In a lot of them, I’m pretty sure.”

Ryan shrugged a shoulder.

“Then yeah?”

Brendon stared, openly stared, until Ryan clearly grew both irritated and uncomfortable with his lack of a response.

_“Brendon.”_

“Hang on, I’m just taking a mental picture of the moment  _Ryan Ross_  asked me to prom -”

“If you could stop being a little shit for a second -”

“That was the least romantic way to ask a guy to prom, and you weren’t even  _asking_ , you were just -”

“Well it’s not my fault you give me non-answers -”

“Then yes.”

Ryan stopped, mouth open, clearly ready to retort.

“Yes?”

“Yeah.  I’ll go with you to prom, Ryan.”

He tried for a smile, and Ryan blinked.

Then he smiled back, a little tentative at the edges, likely having emotional whiplash from the mood.

But that was fine.

Brendon had been having emotional whiplash since he first  _met_  Ryan.


	18. colors of home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a world where I was colorblind, your palette was my guiding light.

He was holding onto Ryan’s hand  _tight,_  tight enough it probably hurt but too out of his mind to be conscious enough of physicality. **  
**

Ryan’s hand was the only anchor his fractured mind had right now, flickering as it was between worlds of color and sepia and monochrome, flickering between indistinct and vivid like a cheap viewfinder.

“Brendon,” Ryan’s voice sounded faraway, but even then Brendon could hear the desperation in it.

“Bren, Brendon, stay with me.  Please.”

He wanted to answer, he did, but he couldn’t get his mouth to work.

Ryan gripped his hand back just as tight, probably, skin just this side of  _too hot_ but it was just another sensation, sensations things he was disconnected from.

 _Ryan’s not wearing his gloves_ , was a passing thought, quickly lost in the constant shifting of colors and images.

A thought that had seemed important at time of conception, but now insignificant and tiny, and he couldn’t remember what was so important about that to begin with.

Another warm,  _warm_  hand on his face, Ryan leaning over until his vision was filled with nothing but him, shifting colors and images not lending well to Brendon’s memories of the way he knew Ryan was  _supposed_  to look.

But why did that matter, again?

Ryan turned to look at something over his shoulder.

“I don’t know, Spencer, they broke him or something.  I don’t know, I don’t…”

“Ryan, let me see.”

“Where’s Jon?”

“He’s fine.  _Ryan.”_

Ryan moved aside only a little, and Spencer took Brendon’s other hand.

Brendon really wished he could see Spencer’s face, but couldn’t remember just why he wanted to.

Most things seemed to elude him, like this.

“What’s wrong with him?”

Ryan’s grip, hot and warm and _tightightight._

“I don’t know.  I can’t… get to his head.  It’s like there’s nothing there.  Like a void.  Like he’s… dead.”

“He’s  _not_  dead.”

“I can see he’s not!  It’s just what it’s like, trying to read him!  There’s just a blank spot there, or something, I don’t know -”

“A  _blank spot?!_  What does that even mean? Damnit, Spencer, I need better than that, I need -”

Brendon closed his eyes, or at least, he thought he did, because he couldn’t see Ryan or Spencer anymore.

And then everything lined up in total awareness, cookie-cutter clarity, everything feeling too sharp, Ryan’s grip on his hand instantly _painful_  and the smell of ash and grime nearly choking him.

He dragged an inhale that hurt worse than Ryan’s grip on his hand, and Ryan was hovering over him in an instant, he could feel it, the shift in warmth and the smell of campfire smoke.

“Bren?  Bren, you there?”

The hand Ryan touched his face with was shaking.

A cough was his only response, and Ryan saying something he didn’t hear over the ringing in his ears, and Ryan made a sound that was like a choked sob.

And as out of awareness as Brendon was, too tired to open his eyes, he knew he didn’t like Ryan making that kind of sound, and squeezed his hand back weakly.

_‘Open your eyes, Brendon.  Come on.’_

That wasn’t his own voice in his head.

He could feel Spencer’s hand on his other one, clammy and cold by contrast to Ryan’s, but familiar enough all the same.

Spencer’s voice in his head not as alien as the strange images and colors that had threatened to pull him out of himself.

“I’m back?” He asked, voice a low croak.

He was sure he felt Ryan’s lips against his knuckles, grip still relentless on his hand.

“You’re back,” Spencer answered, sounding inordinately relieved, as the bleary world filled his vision, something more real than anything he’d seen just moments ago.

The forms of Ryan and Spencer crouched on either side of him.

He hadn’t even realized he’d lifted his head, but it dropped back to the earth, the action having drained his energy.

“Yay,” He said weakly, and Ryan made a sound that was almost a cross between a laugh and a sob.


	19. not often a nice person

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe he means well. Doesn't make him less of a jerk.

“Ryan Ross is a fucking jackass.” **  
**

Jon made a noncommittal sort of noise, turning on the hose with a quiet  _squeak_ of metal on metal.

“Jon.”

“I heard you, Brendon.”

A sigh, the sound of running water.

Brendon scowled down at the little green sprouts, arms wrapped around his knees.  He couldn’t remember the names of them, though he knew Jon had told him once.

“What happened this time?”

A snort.

“What happens  _every_  time.”

“You wanna elaborate?”

“I’m pretty sure he hates me.”

“What makes you say that?”

Brendon shrugged, though he knew Jon wasn’t even looking over at him to see it.

“If he didn’t hate me, why would he fault me for everything I do?”

“I don’t think he hates you, if you want my honest opinion.  Ryan’s got high standards, that’s all.”

“And I don’t meet his standards, is what you’re saying.”

Jon sighed.

“No, I’m saying that he believes you  _could_  meet his standards, but you’re just not living up to his expectations.  And I think that…  _dissonance_  frustrates him.”

Brendon didn’t get it.

“I have no idea how you see it that way.”

“I’ve known Ryan for at least a year now.  Maybe I don’t know him as well as Spencer, but he’s not as complicated as everyone makes him seem.”

“Right, so telling me that letting me join you guys was a waste of everyone’s time and that my powers probably couldn’t save a baby doesn’t mean he hates me,” Brendon intoned sarcastically, glad he looked back in time to see Jon wince.

“Okay, that’s pretty harsh.”

“Exactly.”

“I think he says a lot of things he doesn’t mean, though.  People say things in anger, you know?”

Brendon looked back at the sprouts, envying them for their easy lives, the way they just had to stare at the sun and get water every now and then to live.

Brendon would like a  _normal_  high school life, one he he wasn’t constantly being berated by Ryan Ross and his spartan standards for Superpower Training.

Though, honestly, Brendon’s powers didn’t feel all that ‘super’ right now.

Not that they ever really did.

“Yeah,” Brendon said, “but it still fuckin’ sucks to hear.”

He hadn’t even realized the hose was turned off until Jon came to crouch next to him, a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Ryan just sucks sometimes, B.  But, just for the record, I think your powers are pretty cool and I’d like it if you stuck it out with us a little longer.”

That very nearly tugged a smile out of Brendon, and he tilted sideways a little, leaning against Jon, who wrapped an easy arm around his shoulders.

“Well, when you put it like that.”

Jon laughed.


	20. sometimes I wait for things to go wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think these thoughts when things are too peaceful.

Ryan was asleep. **  
**

Brendon watched him for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall with each languorous breath, the way the moonlight cast over him fractured shadows over his fine features like spiderwebs.

The moment felt incredibly still, pond water before a child dropped a stone into it.  An undisturbed puddle.

Fingertips ghosted over Ryan’s cheek, tracing the shadows cast on his face, over his lips.  Barely a whisper of a touch, but Ryan’s brow furrowed in his sleep, and Brendon pulled back until it smoothed out again.

All of this seemed so unreal, still.

A dash of disbelief, a healthy helping of doubt.

He and Ryan had gone from mild antagonism towards one another to…

This.

Whatever this was.

Putting a word to it was too scary a concept so he didn’t, content to just watch Ryan for a moment.

Rarely did he seem so peaceful, so at ease, expression lax, body curled slightly towards Brendon.

He didn’t know what name to put to it, but he wanted to build a home out of this feeling, with four walls and a roof and everything that came with it.

He used the same whisper-light touch to brush Ryan’s bangs back from his forehead, the kiss he pressed there even softer.


	21. if you're going then go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And don't come looking for me.

_‘Brendon, don’t do this,’_  came Spencer’s voice in his head. **  
**

And then the door opened, and Spencer was there, arms folded over his chest.

Brendon barked a laugh, all ice.

“Move, Smith.  I can get through you if I have to.”

He didn’t.

“No.”

Brendon sighed.  “Spencer -”

“I know why you’re doing this, Brendon, and I’m not going to let you.”

Brendon scowled at that.

“Stay out of my head.”

“I’m  _worried_  about you.  We all are.  Ryan especially.”

“Don’t…” Brendon inhaled deeply.  “Don’t use his name.”

A beat.

“Bren…”

“Move, Smith.  Or I  _will_  get past you, one way or another.”

He felt that familiar flicker in his fingertips, in front of his eyes, the way he could reach for that tiny gap between shadows and slip into if he wanted, and Spencer’s arms uncrossed.

“Brendon,” was all Spencer said, sounding helpless.

“Last warning.   _Move.”_

There was hesitation in his eyes, in his posture, in the thoughts he kept projecting at Brendon but he stepped aside after a moment anyway.

“This isn’t going to fix anything,” Spencer said.  “I want you to know that.  What you’re doing isn’t going to work.”

Brendon was down the hall before he answered, back to Spencer.

“I know.”

_But it’s all I’ve got._


	22. familiar impostor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just who was he, that boy you loved?

He’d never actually seen Ryan cry before. **  
**

Ryan was all hard edges and flinty eyes, jaw always firmly set and refusing to show any kind of weakness.

It was the front he liked to put up, to pretend he was tougher than he was.

That he needed people far more than he let on.

He’d been burned, both literally and figuratively, one time too many to let many people in easily.

This was why the front.

And Brendon, well, he’d hammered his way right past those walls, that flinty glare, that chin lifted in defiance, daring someone to challenge him.

And he’d seen all else that Ryan was capable of, beyond the barriers, and knew.

The way Ryan would silently hold his hand to comfort him.  The way he smiled, sometimes, something soft and tiny and secretive, like a whisper against his ear. The way he kissed, always shaped like a question mark, never demanding unless he knew the answer for certain.  

But despite all of that, never once had he seen Ryan shed a single tear.

Until now.

But, oddly enough?

He couldn’t feel a thing.

“You aren’t Brendon,” Ryan said, voice choked and wiping furiously at his eyes.

That flinty glare he wore so well was melting, melting in a pool of salt water and vivid pain.

“No,” Brendon answered, glancing down at the ground.  Ryan’s feet held in a wide stance, toes pointed towards him.

“No, I suppose I’m not.”


	23. the band

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every superhero team needs a good name.

“So what  _are_  we, exactly?  A superhero team?” **  
**

Jon openly laughed at that, and even Spencer cracked a tiny grin.

Ryan rolled his eyes.

“We’re obviously not superheroes.”

Spencer nodded.

“Exactly.  Ryan’s a villain.  Ouch.”

Ryan had punched him in the arm.

“We have a pretty weird collection of abilities,” Jon mused, scratching the back of his head.  

“We’re like… a vigilante squad.”

“Don’t use the word  _squad_ , it sounds stupid.”

“Do you have a better word for it?”

Ryan only made a face in response.

“A band!” Jon declared.  “A  _band_  of vigilantes.”

“We’re a band,” Brendon whispered, and Ryan sighed.

“We’ll work on it.”


	24. like fire & blood & roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A much beloved hue.

“You’d have to wear red,” Brendon said decisively.

Ryan looked up from his book, eyebrow arched.

“For what?”

“For our superhero team,  _obviously.”_

“Oh,” Ryan snorted, closing his book. “Right.  That.  Don’t you mean our ‘band’?”

Ryan’s tone implied air quotes, though he hadn’t made any with his fingers.

But him closing his book meant he was about to pay attention to Brendon, and Brendon flipped over onto his stomach with a grin.

“No, I mean… it matches your powers!  And I think you’d look good in it.”

Ryan tossed his book at Brendon, making a face that was, well, so  _cute_  that Brendon had to laugh.

“Ha ha, let the pyro wear red, you’re  _so_  original.”

“I mean it, though!  I just think you’d look good in red.  You don’t wear it that often.”

Ryan stared at him for a long moment, as though he were trying to figure out whether or not he was serious.

He sighed after a moment, flopping back on the bed, the movement jostling Brendon.

“Maybe,” was Ryan’s response, softer than his previous tone.

Brendon curled loose fingers around Ryan’s, who gripped his back.

His hand was warm even through the cool leather of his gloves.


	25. just a tune or two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you're alive, then by extension you like music.

“Studies show talking to plants helps them grow.  Singing, too.” **  
**

Brendon perked up.

“Singing to plants helps them grow?”

His hand fell away from the sensitivity plant he’d been playing with, leaves that shied away from his touch, cringing in on itself.

(Jon used to joke that his plants could sense a person’s intent, that it retreated from Brendon’s touch because it knew he was going to tease them.

Brendon had almost believed him, knowing what Jon’s power was, but he later went and looked up the species of plant and confronted Jon about it, who only laughed at him.)

“Really?  You’re not messing with me?”

Jon grinned.

“Not this time.  It really is true.  I talk to them all the time.  Sing sometimes, too.  It’s kind of calming.  You wanna try?”

Brendon brushed soil off his jeans and beamed up at Jon.

“Sure.  Do they have any preferences?”

“Oldies rock only.  No top 40’s,” Jon said, very seriously, though his tone was belied by the smile he was visibly fighting.

Brendon nodded sagely, going along with it.

“Of course the plants have good taste.”

“They’re  _my_  plants, they’d better.”

Brendon cracked a grin, climbing to his feet.

“Okay.  So, any requests?”

“I think they’ll be happy with anything.”  A vague gesture.  “Whatever you’re in the mood to sing, dude.”

So Brendon sang, anything that came to mind, stuff he’d had stuck in his head, stuff he’d heard on the radio earlier today.  Stuff he sang to himself in the shower, revealed to no one on pain of death.

When he ran out of ideas he turned back to Jon with a grin, just barely catching him shoving his cellphone into his pocket with a guilty grin.

Brendon fixed him with a look.

“What? You were really good!”

“What are you going to do with that?”

“Nothing.  Just saving it for posterity’s sake.  Maybe I’ll play it back for the plants later, since they liked it so much.”

This final comment distracted Brendon.

“They liked it?”

Jon’s expression shifted, something a little softer and more sincere.

“Yeah.”

Brendon glanced back at the greenery, the dewy smooth flower petals and verdant green leaves.

“I liked it too,” he whispered, mostly to himself.


	26. doesn't make for a good mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you better off knowing or not knowing?

“I don’t think,” Spencer said, “Brendon’s powers are  _just_  vanishing and reappearing.  Or just invisibility, either.” **  
**

“What do you mean?”

He could hear the question in Ryan’s voice.

“I dunno.  It’s weird.  When he disappears, it’s like he’s completely gone.  I can’t reach his mind, can’t even sense him.  He’s there one minute, gone the next.  Like he never was.”

“And that’s… weird, right?”

“Very.  There are others at this school, with invisibility and teleportation, but it just doesn’t feel the same to me.  I don’t know, maybe I’m making something out of nothing.”

He could see Ryan from this angle, just the side of his head, his eyebrows drawing together.

“So what you’re saying is that Brendon has something altogether different?”

“Yeah, that’s what I think.  We just don’t understand his powers enough yet.  Hell, even  _he_  doesn’t.”

“That’s… true.”

“It makes me a little bit worried.”

“For him?”

“For him,” Spencer echoed, “And for us.  We don’t know what his powers are capable of.”

“Brendon isn’t a threat.”

“I wasn’t saying he was.”  A sigh.

“That’s what you were implying.”

“I’m just saying, Ryan, that his powers are a major unknown factor.  I’m all for letting him into our group, but I think we should be  _careful.”_

“He’s gotten a lot better at controlling them lately, even you’ve seen evidence of that.”

“I know he has.  Really, Ryan, I’m not saying we should persecute him.  Let’s just be a little more cautious of the unknown here, okay?”

There was silence.

Brendon could see Ryan ducking his head, couldn’t make out his expression.

“…Fine.  Maybe you have a point.”

And that was where Brendon decided he’d heard enough, leaving the two of them alone and vanishing back down the hallway.

Since when was he potentially _dangerous?_   Since when was he an  _unknown factor?_

Even Ryan thought so.

Brendon walked through wall after wall, the word quietly humming around him, only then realizing he’d vanished in his frustration.

_Fuck all of this._


	27. mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belonging, commanding, _owning._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[warning: underage]**

Ryan was pliant beneath his touch, almost docile.

Not something he was used to.

His hand between Ryan’s legs, Ryan arching into his touch with a breathy, needy noise that Brendon hadn’t even known he was  _ capable _ of making.

It made his mouth run dry.

He didn’t know what he was doing, not really, only knew he wanted to hear Ryan make those noises again.  
  
Ryan’s breath came in sharp, wet pants against his shoulder, fingers digging in hard to his biceps, his touch  _ scalding. _

Brendon couldn’t even bring himself to be bothered by the heat of it, wondering whether or not he’d be burned.

_ “Brendon,” _ Ryan keened, voice high and reedy in a way that was all new, only for him, like a whispered secret in his ear.

His strokes were uneven, his touch inconsistent, his rhythm clumsy, but Ryan hardly seemed to mind, pressing up against him like he was all that mattered right now.

Brendon had never touched anyone else before, like this.

He  _ never _ wanted to touch anyone other than Ryan now.  

That was all there was, the heat of his skin, the soft noises he made, like he was reigning himself in out of habit, so used to keeping himself quiet that it just became a part of him.

His lips found Ryan’s neck, lips at his pulse point, rapid quick fluttering beneath heated skin that he could  _ feel. _

Ryan was letting him, just  _ letting _ him, tipping his head back to allow for better access, hips stuttering against Brendon’s hand, the softest of moans slipping from him almost as though by accident.

Brendon felt the vibration of it against his lips.

When Ryan finally came, it was with a soundless cry, a soft whoosh of breath, holding  _ tight _ to Brendon.

Brendon’s hand was slick and sticky, but couldn’t be bothered.  He was happy, really, that Ryan let him do this. That Ryan  _ let _ him.

He was so caught up in the thrill of that he barely noticed Ryan’s lips at his jaw, his cheek, finding his own lips, eventually, kissing him with languid warmth.

“Finally,” Ryan breathed, and Brendon agreed.

Yeah, yeah,  _ finally. _


	28. no longer this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'Humanity' is a caterpillar's cocoon.

There were reasons he was supposed to want to go back. **  
**

Friends.

A sense of belonging.

A  _team._

Someone he loved.

They were but dust in the wind in comparison to the world he had at his fingertips now, an entire  _world_  that contained universes of its own, spiraling nebuli and twisting galaxies within itself.

What could the human world possibly hold for him?

Nothing.

There was nothing.

Ryan Ross was just a human.  A special human, to be sure.  Still only human.

And humans meant nothing to him anymore.

The smell of smoke and the warmth of hands were things better left off in the human realm of existence.


	29. winds of change may be blowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New beginnings. Hard to tell if it's for better or worse, though.

Coming to this school hadn’t been  _ his _ idea.

His parents caught wind of it, a place to ‘rehabilitate’ kids that were… like him.

Of course, they were on board almost immediately.

Brendon hadn’t wanted to go, not really, but at the same time…

If they could help him learn to control his powers, help him learn to be _ normal, _ then maybe he could live a  _ normal _ life.  Make friends, fall in love, get a job.  Those sorts of things.

That was what seemed ideal, anyway.

Brendon had never wanted to settle for just being normal, not when he’d  _ never _ been normal, but it was the easier route.

So he’d go to this school.

Maybe it would do something for him.


	30. gentle heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's a little different when he's like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[warning: underage]**

“I wanted to do it like this,” Ryan said, chin hooked over Brendon’s shoulder, “But only if you’re really okay with it.”

Brendon couldn’t deny how vulnerable he felt, naked like this, Ryan equally bare pressed along his back, thighs bracketing Brendon’s.

“It’s okay if you aren’t,” he added.

He looked down at Ryan’s hand, splayed over his stomach and no lower yet, just there.  Warm and sure.

“Um,” he said.

“Bren?”

“I’m okay with it, but…”

“But?”

“It’s… a little embarrassing.  That’s all.”

Ryan made a sound of assent.

“Not gonna disappear on me?”

“No… I don’t  _ think _ so, at least.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Ryan said softly, kissing his cheek.  “If you want or need to stop at any time, say the word.”

Brendon didn’t think he would, but nodded anyway.

Ryan kissed his cheek again, then the corner of his jaw, then the side of his neck, warm, fleeting little kisses, near ticklish in their softness.

He stroked Brendon’s stomach, more firm and sure than his kisses.

There was a moment where Ryan paused, breathing against the spot behind Brendon’s ear, making him squirm a little.

“Do you want to know why I wanted to do it like this?”

Brendon had a feeling he was going to die if he heard the answer.

“I…” He swallowed.  “Why?”

Ryan’s hand drifted from his stomach to his hip, then to his thigh, long fingers resting just over his inner thigh.

“I like looking at you,” He said simply, and Brendon was right, this was already killing him.  “I like looking at you, but I wanted to… see you from this angle. Feel you, too. It feels more intimate, somehow.  Like this.”

Brendon exhaled shakily.

His arousal was undeniable at this point, and he wanted to curl up in shame, but Ryan made a satisfied sort of sound in the back of his throat, stroking Brendon’s thigh with something approaching reverence.

Ryan’s other hand came to rest over his sternum, and yeah, death didn’t seem so unlikely.  Could a person die from embarrassment?

He was amazed he was holding onto physical form so well.

His heart beat a steady tattoo against Ryan’s palm, lighting quick and fluttering, and it seemed almost too fast, didn’t it?  Was a person’s heart supposed to beat that fast?

He felt Ryan’s lips quirk into a smile against his skin.

Ryan said, once before, something about liking the effect he had on Brendon.

He used the hand on Brendon’s chest to pull him back flush against him, back against Ryan’s chest, no space between them.

Ryan was  _ warm, _ and Brendon shuddered into it.  
  
That wasn’t all, though; Brendon could feel Ryan’s evident arousal against his lower back, hard press of it unmistakable.

“You’re not the only one,” was all Ryan said.

Then, warm fingers encircled his cock, no hesitance, grip sure, and a high-pitched breathy sound escaped him.  Ryan kissed his neck in response.

There was no hesitance to Ryan’s touch, much in the way there was little hesitance to the way Ryan believed in certain things.

Unlike the seemingly introverted, withdrawn personality Ryan tended to project.

It was clear there was no intent to tease, though Ryan’s pace was leisurely.  He stroked Brendon with intent, though his motions were languid.

Like he had all the time in the world.

His chin resting on Brendon’s shoulder, watching him.

It was difficult for Brendon to move his hips in this position, but it was on reflex his hips twitched into Ryan’s touch, seeking  _ more. _

Ryan only murmured, “I’ve got you,” soft and barely there.

Things he’d imagined but never experienced outright for himself.

And with  _ Ryan. _

“Does it feel good?” Came Ryan’s voice, right next to his ear.

“ _ Ah _ \- y-ye _ ah,” _ Was about all he could manage, words breaking on a moan head dropping back against Ryan’s shoulder, who seemed content with the new arrangement, shifting to allow for this position, kissing Brendon’s cheek.

The steady rhythm of his hand never changed, though, never stuttered.

“Good,” came Ryan’s response, a tone Brendon couldn’t read, wasn’t able to, not as out of his head as he was.

Ryan seemed intent to draw this out as long as possible, and as such, Brendon couldn’t really be sure how long the whole thing lasted, unable to do much more than lay pliant against Ryan, trembling, sweat beading at his temples.

But  _ then _ he hit his peak, the slow build of it catching him off guard, gripping tight to Ryan’s thighs.

Ryan stroked him through it until he slumped against him, boneless.

Only then did Ryan pull his hand away, clean hand threading fingers through Brendon’s sweaty hair.

A brief kiss to his forehead.

“How was that?” He asked, as though he weren’t entirely confident in his performance.

Brendon had to take a moment to marvel at that, that Ryan had made him feel like  _ this, _ and be unsure about it.

It was… very Ryan, really, to seem like he knew what he was doing, exude total confidence, and lose it once it was all said and done.

“Wow, Ry,” Brendon finally said, “I have  _ no _ idea how you come up with these things, but.   _ Wow.” _

“So… it was good?”

“Very.   _ Very _ good.”

“And… you’re still here.”

“I think I’d hate myself a little if I disappeared and missed that.”

“I think I might hate you a little if you did, too.”

He could hear the smile in Ryan’s voice, the way he barely held back a laugh.

“Good, we’re in agreement.”

Ryan kissed his cheek again and sighed, seeming content just to hold him, letting Brendon slump back against him.

The pressing hardness of his arousal against Brendon’s lower back slowly faded, too.

“What about you?”  Brendon asked, after a moment.  
  
Ryan shrugged.  
  
“Another time.  We’ll have time later.  I’m fine with just this.”

“Okay.  I’ll hold you to that.”

“Don’t worry,” Ryan said, “I wouldn’t let you forget.”

Brendon could have fallen asleep like that, probably, in Ryan’s arms, Ryan’s fingers in his hair, warm and comfortable and sated.

He never remembered feeling anything like this before.


	31. fear not the flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn't really see himself; only the fire.

“I’ve never been afraid of you.”

_“Rea_ lly.”  

“Yeah.  No, never.”

An arched eyebrow.

“Being intimidated isn’t the same as being afraid,” Brendon said defensively.  “Not in the context you’re thinking, anyway.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

“I was intimidated by you because you’re tall and pretty and glared at everyone.   _And_ you’re really good at what you do, above all else.  But I’ve never been _afraid_ of you, what you’re capable of, or what your powers can do.”

Quiet for a moment.

Then,

_“Tall_ and _pretty?”_

“Of course _that’s_ the part you fixate on.”

“Well,” A little laugh, “your words, not mine.”

“You wouldn’t have been half as intimidating if you were neither of those things.”

“I’m not even going to touch the part about being _tall_ and _pretty,_ but… I’m not actually as good at handling my powers as everyone thinks.”

A frown.  
  
“You are, though?”

“I’m not.”

“No, Ry, you _are._  I’ve never seen anyone your age with such good control over such a... “

“Destructive ability?”

“Not what I was going to say, but fine.  Yeah, destructive ability. How many kids your age would be able to control something like that?  As well as you do?”

“But I…”

“Ryan, for once, hear what I’m saying to you.”

All he got was a frown and a furrowed brow in response.

“How many kids with _literally_ explosive abilities like yours would handle them as well as you have?  Handle the way you’ve been _treated_ because of them the way you have?  You’re like a walking bomb, you’ve said it yourself, but you’re standing here without exploding and that part, that part’s all _you._  Your control.”

“I guess,” came Ryan’s eventual response.

“There’s no guessing, man.  Something could spook me bad enough right now and I’d vanish for at least an hour.  Your control is _iron_ compared to mine.”

“You just… haven’t had enough experience with it yet, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but.  Ry. Come on, at least give yourself a little bit of credit.”

“You’re right, it’s so _great_ that I’m not just torching everything in sight, always,” He said, the evident sarcasm enough to make Brendon give him a look.

“Ryan,” he began.

“I get what you’re trying to say, Bren.  I appreciate it. But the fact is, when all that’s between me and my powers burning down the entire school is my _control?_  You have to understand why I don’t trust it that much.”

“You haven’t done that, though.  And that’s _my point_.”

They stared at each other for a moment.

It was a matter of who would give in first.

Stalemate.

“I’m just a dormant volcano waiting to erupt, Brendon.  I’m a powder keg, a slumbering dragon. I might not be destructive _now,_ but that possibility always hangs over my head like a dark cloud.  You wouldn’t understand how that feels.”

“I wouldn’t,” Brendon said softly, “But all I’m asking for you to do is _appreciate_ yourself more.  And all that you’ve accomplished.”

Ryan stared determinedly at the floor.

“I don’t think I can,” he said.


	32. an interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team name _has_ to be cool.

“We actually  _ stopped _ a real-life criminal!”

“I know,” came Ryan’s dry response, “I was there.”

But he was smiling a little, still.

“I know a purse mugging is kind of a cliche, but I just… man, when you did that thing with the  _ fire _ and Jon made that tree just -”

“I don’t need a play-by-play,” Ryan said, bumping his side, not quite able to conceal his smile now.  “And, you know, you did good, too.”

“You think?”

“Scared the piss outta that guy.”

“I was lucky that worked out.”

“You’re getting a lot better at controlling it.” Ryan said.  “It’s just a result of your training up until now.”

“Yeah, I… I guess you’re right.”

“I know I’m right,” came the smug response, though the toothy grin flashed his way softened the arrogance.

“You know what we still need, though?”

“What?”

“A team name.”

A groan.

“I told you, I’m working on that.”

“Why do  _ you _ get to pick the name, anyway?” Brendon grumbled. “Shouldn’t it be a  _ band _ decision?”

“One, because I  _ started  _ our ‘band’ and two,” Ryan said, poking him in the side with an index finger, “I really hate we’re still calling it a band.”

“No way am I going back on that one,” Brendon said with a grin, “We’re a band.  Absolutely no take-backs this late in the game.”

Ryan went to poke his side again but Brendon caught his wrist this time.

“Which is why I’m  _ definitely _ not letting any of you three pick the name.”

Brendon released Ryan’s wrist only when he went for a jab with his free hand.

“Hey,” he said, in a faux-offended tone, “It’s so rude of you to insult Jon’s naming choices like that -”

“It’s funny that  _ Jon’s _ is the first name you drop when you yourself just -”

“He’s the one that came up with the ‘band’ thing!”

“Yeah, but don’t forget some of your team name choices, what is this, a kid’s soccer league -”

And on it went.


	33. better the devil that you know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Not_ being outcast makes a world of difference.

He overheard his parents, once or twice, convinced that his strange abilities  _ had _ to be the work of the devil.

Back then, when he was younger and far more impressionable, he almost believed them.  That he  _ was _ something twisted, something cursed. 

Something devilish.

Age and life experience taught him that mutations and abilities were simply a part of life, for some.  It was unusual for him to have been born with innate powers at all, considering no one in his family history possessed them, but it  _ was _ known to happen from time to time.

An exception.

Brendon had always been an exception to every rule.

Even applying to this school, they didn’t know what to categorized his abilities as.

‘Teleportation & Phasing’ was what was listed on his file, but they said they still didn’t quite know what category to place him under, leaving him with a label of ‘otherness’ even in a school meant for unique people.

He didn’t know what he’d do without Ryan, Spencer, and Jon.

Be lost, probably.

Still an exception.

Less an  _ acception. _


	34. (not) better off as friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't he take a joke?

“So, if I dumped water on you, would you start steaming?”

Brendon supposed he deserved the punch in the shoulder, but it had still  _ hurt. _

For such a skinny guy, Ryan packed a hell of a punch.  Way stronger than he looked.

Their friendship was something Brendon would consider tentative at best, slightly combative at worst.  
  
But it was a considerable improvement from where they’d started, unable to look at one another without glaring or descending into an inane argument.

He got along with Spencer and Jon with  _ far _ less problems.  Jon was easygoing, likeable.  Spencer was a genuinely nice guy, good sense of humor.

Ryan was…

Brendon didn’t really know.

Complicated.  That seemed like a pretty good word.

He just didn’t  _ get _ Ryan.

Thus, their relationship.  Two people who seemingly always wanted a reason to fight, barely reigned in by the fragile chains of forced amicability.

Well.

It was something.


	35. lost and unfounded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone's gotta find you, eventually.

“I don’t think,” Brendon said, “I even know  _ what _ I’m supposed to be anymore.”

Second verse, same as the first.  Repetition of a conversation they’d had so many times before, word choice a little different, meaning all the same.

He could feel Ryan shaking his head, hair brushing the nape of his neck.

“You’re Brendon,” he said firmly.  “No matter what your powers are, you’re still  _ you.” _

“There’s no way you really believe that,” came his whispered response.

“I do.  I  _ do.” _

“How can you even be so sure?  Interdimensional travel, alternate personalities, what the fuck does that even -”

“It doesn’t mean anything.  Doesn’t change  _ anything, _ okay, Bren?”  Ryan’s voice was just as firm, unwavering.  “Your abilities aren’t your identity.”

“Aren’t they?  Didn’t you make yours your identity for the past ten years?”

It was a low blow and Brendon knew it.

Ryan was silent.

“That’s fair enough,” came the eventual soft response.  “It’s true. I did. I still do, sometimes. But someone forcibly started to make me see different.  That I’m more than a walking time bomb, a destructive force. That I’m a person, first and foremost, beneath all the smoke and flames.”

And, yeah, Brendon knew that part.  He’d been working to convince Ryan of as much since he’d gotten to know that about him.

“If someone like  _ me _ can start to believe that, then you can too.  They’re your words,” his voice was so sad, Brendon  _ hated _ it, “So you should at least believe in the things  _ you _ say.”

“It was different then.  When I said those things.”

“Was it?  You still seem the same to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Your abilities have always been there.  You’ve always had this potential, you just didn’t know it was there.  It’s… gotta be scary as hell, knowin’ what you found out, but…”

“But what?”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Ryan said, soft as a whisper, “not for me.”

Brendon didn’t know what to say.

Ryan’s arms tightened around him, breath fanning out against the nape of his neck.

Warm.

Ryan was always warm.

“I can’t pretend like this doesn’t change anything.  I can’t.”

It took Ryan a moment to answer.

“That’s expected.  But Bren,” he said, “No matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere.  I’m not afraid of you.”

The faintest of smiles curved against the back of his neck, Brendon could  _ feel  _ it.

“You may not be tall and pretty and intimidating, but you’re still mine.  Never been afraid of you, never will be. We’ll figure this out  _ together. _ ”

And that,  _ that _ Brendon had to bark out a laugh at.

“You don’t think I’m pretty?”

“We _ ll _ ,” Ryan said, and Brendon already didn’t like his tone.  “I guess you are pretty. Pretty cute.”

“Oh god.  You’re lame.”

“Mm.  Pot, meet kettle.”

“Excuse you, I’m totally not  _ lame. _  I’m awesome, I’m cool.”

“Anyone that has to actually say that about themselves definitely isn’t cool.”

Brendon couldn’t elbow Ryan in the side from this angle, not with Ryan wrapped around him, but tried anyway.  Ryan laughed in his ear at his efforts.

They were silent for a moment before Ryan spoke up again.

“Somehow, we’re gonna get through this.  I don’t know how. But somehow.”

“Okay,” Brendon said.

And couldn’t find it in him to argue anymore.


	36. photosynthesize

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunlight is a kind of nourishment.

“Theoretically,” Brendon said, “If I vanished and never came back, would you miss me?”

“Theoretically,” came Jon’s answer, somewhere behind a shrub, “Yeah, I would.”

Brendon grinned.   
  
“You’re the best, Jon.”

Jon’s head popped up from behind the plant and he grinned, wide and sunshine-bright.

“I know. And so underappreciated, at that.”

“Guess I’ll have to appreciate you more,” Brendon responded, just barely biting back a laugh.

Brendon had really taken to spending time here, in Jon’s greenhouse.  Being around so much greenery was new; back at home, they’d only had a sad, single unwatered house plant that eventually wilted and died.

Knowing now that Jon could communicate with plants made him feel a little regretful for it.

“I  _ do _ appreciate having an assistant around here.”

“Well, what can I say? I live to please.”

“You help with the plants, the plants like you,  _ I _ like you, it’s a cycle, man.”

A fingertip brushed over a dewy leaf as Jon grinned at him, framed by the smudgy sunlight through the dusty greenhouse window.

“I can live with that.”


	37. crescendo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is far too loud.

He should have noticed, at some point, that it wasn’t quite right, the way everything around him muted, a buzz, like someone had just put noise-cancelling headphones over his ears but it cancelled out  _ more _ than just sound.

Colors, sensation, thought.

Everything was dark and murky and as transparent as the darkest ink, splashed over everything, shades of slick black.

Like oil, like tar.

A voice that was his spoke words that weren’t.

He couldn’t hear the words, but felt his mouth move, throat vibrate.

Even through the  _ stuff _ that obscured everything, though, there were shades of red, of orange, the smell of smoke.

The faintest flicker of warmth through the numbness that encased him like a too-tight glove.

So familiar, so wanted. 

It was like an itch, beneath all those layers of unfeeling, something niggling at him.

_ You don’t need to worry about him anymore. _

Oh.  Why not?

_ You just don’t. _

But…

_ Don’t. _

But there’s a ‘him’.

_ Forget it. _

I don’t want to.

_ You have to. _

Why?

_ It’s better that way. _

Why is it?

_ You don’t need people anymore. _

Why don’t I?

_ Wasteful. _

People are?

_ Yes. Treated you like waste, they’re wasteful. _

‘Him’ too?

_...No. _

Then why do I have to forget ‘him’?

_ It’s better that way.  Less hurt. For you… and for ‘him’. _

Well… I don’t want to hurt ‘him’.

We _ don’t. _

_ We _ don’t.


	38. the principal of the thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships don't need to be complicated.

Ryan’s head rested on Brendon’s thigh, his eyes closed.  He was humming something, Brendon was sure, could feel the vibrations of it, though he couldn’t recognize the tune.

Didn’t feel like disrupting the peace of the air to ask, puncture it with questions that didn’t need real answers, anyway.

His fingers carded through Ryan’s hair, soft beneath his touch, soft as it looked, as he’d always spent embarrassing seconds too long thinking about.

Spencer had a test to study for, Jon was in the greenhouse.

The two of them were alone, for now.

Being alone together like this was different, since…

Well.

Since.

Ryan poked him in the calf.

“I don’t need to be Spencer,” he said, “to hear how loud you’re thinking.”

“Am I?” Bemused by that prospect.

“You’re only that quiet when you’re overthinking something.”

“Or when I’m sleeping.”

“No, you make more noise when you’re sleeping.”

Brendon tried to find offense in those plainly stated words, but couldn’t find any.

“Wanna share what’s on your mind?”

A shrugged shoulder, though he knew Ryan couldn’t see it.

Ryan tilted his head a little, eyes opening, looking up at Brendon.

“This ‘us’ thing.”

“Right,” Ryan said, “the ‘us’ thing.”

“There is a… a thing, right?”

“Of course,” Ryan said easily.  “Right?”

“I mean.  I hoped so.”

“Then there is.”

“Oh.  Well, okay.”

“Only if you want there to be.”

Ryan sounded unsure, now.

“Uh, yeah.  I mean. Yeah.  Of course, of course I do.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, the only sound his soft inhales and exhales.

Brendon missed the humming.

“It doesn’t have to be complicated.  But. We can just be an ‘us’ thing. We don’t have to call it anything special.  It can just be… us.”

Brendon brushed Ryan’s bangs out of his eyes, just so he could see them better.

“Well, sounds pretty damn good to me.”

The faintest quirk of Ryan’s lips in response to that.

“Cool.”


	39. head stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as not-alone in my head as outside, it seems.

“There’s another guy,” Brendon began.

Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“In my head,” he continued, shooting Ryan a glare.

The eyebrow lowered.

“How do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘how do I mean’?  I mean exactly what I said! There’s, like, a… a voice in my head, or something, I dunno, it sounds stupid now that I’ve said it.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Ryan had that pinched, thoughtful look on his face that he got when he was thinking hard about something, choosing his words very carefully.

And Ryan always had so many words to choose from.

“So d’you think it’s like, like, a powers things, or,” Brendon swallowed, “or am I just crazy or what?”

Ryan drew one knee up to his chest, wrapping an arm around it, expression still thoughtful.

He was like a statue, like this, hardly moving, face frozen in plaster.

But then he’d shift, or breathe, and the illusion was shattered.

“Did you tell Spencer about this?  He knows about… head stuff better than me.”

“Head stuff,” Brendon echoed.

“Yeah.  Head stuff.  I don’t know, Bren.  We don’t know a lot about your powers,” a shrug, “but at this point it could be anything.  Maybe you’re just stressed, hearing voices? Is that a side effect of stress?”

“If it is, it’s new to me.”

He could hear the sound of birdsong, in the silence between their words.

Better than hearing voices, he supposed.

Better  _ that _ voice in particular was quiet.

“I really don’t know, Bren.”

Ryan’s voice was soft, a little defeated.

“I wish I did.  Wish I could help you somehow.”

Brendon uncurled his fists, clenched them, uncurled again.

Then sat next to Ryan on the bench, creaking a little beneath their combined weight.

“Well,” Brendon said, “It’s enough that you give a shit, at least.”

Ryan knocked Brendon’s shoulder with his.

Warm, always warm, the smoky smell of his making Brendon’s throat prickle.

“Always gonna.”


	40. a time out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to be a superhero when you're stuck in school.

“Can they technically ground us if they’re not our parents?”

“Dude, our parents signed us over to them when we got sent here.  Pretty sure they can.”

“I still don’t think we should have been  _ grounded. _ I mean, couldn’t they have suspended us?”

“You know that wouldn’t be a punishment.”

“Yeah, but -”

“It’s stupid enough in the first place that they’re punishing us for trying to do good.”

“Trying is really the operative word here, you know, especially when Ryan burned down the -”

“That wasn’t on purpose.”

“I mean,  _ we _ know that, but to them it just seems like -”

“This is so not a superhero team, dudes.”

“No, really, what gave you that idea?”

“The lack of cool costumes and name?”

“The name’s a work in progress, apparently, Ryan needs time to come up with something just  _ amazing -” _

“One more word, Urie.”

_ “...Seriously _ , you guys.  We’re already in trouble.”

The doorknob turned with a click, and they all fell silent.

As it turned out, being forbidden from leaving school grounds for two weeks was a  _ kind _ punishment.

Right.

_ Kind. _


	41. never enough of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burn me from the inside out; I'd happily let you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **[warning: underage]**

Lately, they’d hardly seen each other.

School and studying took up so much time, that Brendon was lucky if he got to see Ryan for longer than a goodnight kiss.

It explained why now, now that they had more than a scant few minutes with one another, things felt so frantic.

Ryan’s mouth a searing brand against his own, fingers even hotter, gloves long since tossed aside and forgotten.

Brendon’s shirt a barrier to the places Ryan wanted to touch, pushing it up, up, up carelessly, wrinkling it, though that was the very last thing on Brendon’s mind

“I missed you,” breathed out in between wet, heated kisses, taken like breaths, needed like oxygen.

Words just an exhale.

Wanting to form an answer of his own but unable to, Ryan’s mouth and touch far too insistent to allow it.

Sometimes he got like this.  Sharp and fiery and insatiable, seemingly unstoppable, though Brendon knew a single uttered ‘no’ would halt Ryan in his tracks.

The thing, though, was that Brendon wasn’t about to stop it.

He’d missed Ryan just as much.

A frantic sort of skirmish, near dancing, clothes the casualties to a battle of desire, of longing, lust too crass a word for the loving, reverent kisses Ryan placed over his collarbone.

Everywhere he touched a point of heat, burning like his flames.

Ryan like this  _ was _ fire, uncontainable, uncontrollable, liable to consume everything in its path.

Even Brendon, if he let him.

And he would,  _ oh, _ but he would.

Kisses trailed down his sternum, a detour over his heart, lips lingering there where his pulse fluttered, a curve of a heated smile against his skin.

And then Ryan was on the move again, kissing his way down his stomach, muscles jumping beneath his touch, warm,  _ warm _ hands holding fast to Brendon’s sides.

Underwear really just the thinnest of barriers, Ryan casting an upward glance for permission, and of course, a frantic nod, of  _ course _ he had it.

These days, Brendon had little want or need to deny Ryan  _ anything. _

The hot, wet mouth on his cock was unexpected, enough to draw a humiliating sort of noise from him, had he the sense to feel shame in this moment.

There wasn’t room in him for it, not with the way Ryan scorched him through from the inside out, lit up white-hot with desire and longing.

It was probably over quickly, probably embarrassingly so, but Ryan had no comment, slithering back up to kiss the corner of Brendon’s mouth with a self-satisfied hum.

Ryan’s erection like a hot brand against his thigh, so he lifted a leg to press against it, drawing a gasp from Ryan, who looked up at him with wide eyes.

Wanting, wanting.

Brendon could say much the same.

About to reach a hand down, but Ryan stopped him, frantic shake of his head.

“No,” he said, breathlessly, still wearing that wide-eyed look.  “Like this.”

Brendon didn’t understand, completely, but lifted his leg again, just as he had, just a little, just  _ enough. _

Ryan shoving down the waistband of his own underwear so he could rut freely against Brendon’s thigh, fingers pressed hard,  _ hard _ into Brendon’s sides.

Maybe it would leave a mark.

Ryan didn’t seem to last very long, either, much to Brendon’s relief.

That his own performance had not been quite so humiliating, perhaps.

Cooling mess left on his skin, Ryan dropping his head to Brendon’s chest.

“Gonna take a nap,” Ryan mumbled against his skin, “then I want more of that.”

Brendon carded fingers through Ryan’s hair.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, burying his face into Ryan’s hair.  “Yeah, more of that.”


End file.
